There’s something about certain footballers that’s almost impossible to explain. They aren't necessarily the quickest, strongest or most technically gifted, yet they always seem to have more time on the ball than everyone else.
They know where to be and which pass to make. They know when to speed up or slow down the game. They can recognise danger before it develops and see opportunities before they become obvious. They seem to know what’s going to happen before it happens.
In other words, they have a footballing brain. And I wonder whether, in our pursuit of faster, stronger and more athletic footballers, we’re overlooking one of the most important qualities in the game.
Footballing intelligence has little to do with conventional intelligence or IQ. It’s the ability to process information, recognise patterns, anticipate developments and make decisions in fractions of a second. A midfielder receives the ball with his back to goal. Before it arrives, an intelligent footballer has already assessed his teammates' positions, knows the opposition's defensive shape, and has recognised where space might develop. He knows what he intends to do.
A less intelligent player receives the ball and then considers his options. The difference might be a second. At Premier League level, that second is everything. Every professional footballer can see what’s happening, but far fewer understand what is about to happen. It's the difference between reacting to the game and influencing it.
Older fans will remember Tony Green who had that rare ability to anticipate movement and recognise opportunities that others simply couldn't see. 'Jinky' Jim was another player who could make things happen. Peter Beardsley was a great example. Yes, he was technically gifted, but he also understood space, movement and timing. He could manipulate defenders without outrunning them and create opportunities that seemed invisible to everyone else.
Chris Waddle understood rhythm. He knew when to hold the ball, invite a challenge, or suddenly accelerate. He could change the tempo of an attack almost at will. And then there was Gazza. Amazing natural ability with an instinctive understanding of what was happening around him. He could see a pass others couldn't and play it before opponents had time to react.
What links these players wasn't their physical attributes or their technical abilities - it was their understanding of football. And that’s what Newcastle are lacking right now.
Modern football is obsessed with stats. Opta has become the de facto authority on football performance data. We can measure passing accuracy, progressive carries, expected goals, distance covered, pressing actions and so many other aspects of a player's performance but where’s the Opta category for a footballing brain?
There isn't one. Which is just as well. Because if there was, the Opta data from the Coventry game would be embarrassing. González might have got a decent rating but to use an old joke, if footballing brains were dynamite, the rest of the team couldn’t have blown their eyebrows off.
Imagine one of our midfielders spots a developing opportunity, deliberately draws an opponent out of position and plays a simple five-yard pass. That movement creates space for a teammate, who then provides the assist for a goal. The stats record the assist and the goal. They may even capture the value of the earlier pass. But do they really recognise the intelligence that created the opportunity in the first place? Not necessarily. Because we’ve become exceptionally good at measuring what footballers do, but not so good at understanding why they do it.
Our players today are generally fitter, faster and stronger than previous generations. Sports science and modern coaching have improved certain aspects of the game but I wonder whether our methods of identifying young talent sometimes favour physique over footballing intelligence.
Imagine two sixteen-year-old midfielders. One is exceptionally athletic. He runs tirelessly, presses aggressively, wins physical challenges and performs impressively in measurable categories. Think Lewis Miley. The other is smaller and slower but reads the game beautifully. He anticipates danger, rarely wastes possession and instinctively understands where he needs to be. Think Sean Steur.
Which one is more likely to impress a coach? Ideally, both. But Miley’s qualities are easier to quantify, therefore he’s played more. Steur requires somebody capable of recognising something less tangible but more valuable, therefore he’s played less.
Maybe some potentially exceptional footballers never progress because their physical development doesn't match their understanding of the game. And maybe increasingly structured coaching systems, with their prescribed movements and tactical instructions, leave little room for independent thinking and improvisation. That isn't an argument against coaching or athleticism. The ideal footballer combines physical ability, technique and intelligence. It's simply a question of whether we always recognise the relative importance of each.
Coaching can improve awareness, positioning, tactical understanding and decision-making but experience matters as well. Can you teach somebody to see possibilities that others simply don't recognise? We thought that Wor Matty might, given that he’d had three weeks on the training ground to work with his players, but I’m not sure he did. More worryingly, I’m beginning to wonder whether he can.
Some players seem to have an instinctive appreciation of space, timing and movement that separates them from everyone else. It’s what made Beardsley or Gascoigne special. And why Wissa, Elanga, Willock and Murphy, to name just a few, are so frustrating.
You can improve fitness, develop strength, refine technique and teach tactical systems. But that extraordinary ability to understand a constantly changing football match and instinctively recognise what needs to happen next? That’s much rarer. And perhaps, in an age when almost everything in football can be measured, the most valuable quality of all remains the one we struggle to put a number on - a footballing brain.
Have our players got it? On recent evidence, not many have. Has our manager got it? On recent evidence, I’m just not sure.
Chris Waite